TIl Death Do Us Part
by GoldenPadfoot148
Summary: Hermione has always been fascinated by books. But when Harry discovers an ancient diary, Dark Magic forces are unleashed. Is it possible to fall in love with someone inside your head? **Promise the Story is better than the summary, please read!**
1. Prologue

Hermione was sitting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, reading a book, when her two best friends burst forth from the portrait, talking excitedly in hushed tones. Interest sparked, she put down "Hogwarts: A History" onto the arm of the sofa as Harry and Ron proceeded over to her looking excited.

"'Mione, guess what?!" Ron whispered loudly, bouncing up and down from his seat on the rug in front of her. She merely raised her brow at him before turning to her raven haired friends with an expectant look on her face.

Both faces just grinned at her.

"Well? What is it?!" She replied exasperatedly, when neither was forthcoming with an answer. "What's so important?"

Harry lifted his hand and showed a black diary, with 1943 stamped up at the top of the leather cover. It didn't look very exciting.

"We found- well Harry did- this in moaning Myrtle's bathroom! The whole place was flooded because someone upset her by trying to flush it in her stall." Ron murmured quickly, darting his head from side to side, as if afraid someone were going to snatch it away. "It seems to be resistant to ink though, because Harry's ink bottle exploded over it and, well, as you can see, there's not a trace of it! Cool, huh?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at this piece of news. A diary which repelled ink? Or had it evaporated it? Or was it...

Quick as a flash, her hand shot out and grabbed the book from Harry's hands, twisting it this way and that, thoroughly inspecting every inch of the cover. When she found nothing suspicious there, she opened the cover and flicked through all the pages.

Something peculiar caught her mind's eye however.

What in Merlin's name was THAT?!

Hermione flipped the book back to the start and leafed through again. This time, she managed to catch what had piqued her curiosity beforehand. Goosebumps erupted from head to toe, and a chill swept down her back. There was an eerie feel about this book, as if something...or _someone _was watching her! As if something were trying to reach for her hand...

Upon this realisation, she threw the book back at Harry in abject horror, as if burned and stood up.

"I...err...I'm going away to bed. Um, early night and all that, don't want to be tired for tomorrow's classes!" She squeaked, before shuffling along to the girl's staircase. Yes, that was it, she was tired. It had nothing to do with that...that book.

Harry and Ron watched her go with looks of great puzzlement upon their faces. Luckily, Fred and George walked over and challenged them to a game of Exploding Snap and soon all was forgotten, and many laughs were had.


	2. Chapter 1 The Dream

She couldn't sleep.

She tossed and turned, her mind in turmoil with the event which took place just moments ago in the room beneath her.

Hermione sighed hard. All she could think about was that bloody diary. Millions of questions were thundering about in her skull, each as confusing as the next.

Was it possible for something to be "Inside" something else?

And what about the whole no ink fiasco? How was that possible?

Why had she felt as if an entity of sorts were watching her? Through a book?!

And, trying to...reach her?

That's not possible! She thought desperately, fighting the raging war in her head. A book doesn't have human thoughts! She was imagining things! It was just a harmless book! There was nothing going on!

Nevertheless, a thought kept creeping to the front of her mind.

Why was it bothering her so much?

Brushing it off, Hermione rolled onto her back, and stared at the canopy of her bed. Harry and Ron were going to ask questions the next day, questions in which she had no answers to. They were going to think her mad, more so than usual.

Wait...wouldn't the library have something on the subject?

That's it! She thought happily. I'll go to the library tomorrow, read up on this...thing. That area of the Castle hadn't let her down before, and it sure as hell wasn't going to do so now.

Finally finding some peace in her idea, she finally succumbed to a deep sleep.

* * *

Hermione was standing in a grassy meadow, a soft breeze twirling through her hair. There was soft music playing, some tune she'd never heard before, and it was strangely relaxing.

She heard a light chuckle behind her, and whipped round to gaze upon a young man standing behind her. He was dressed impeccably, in a black suit and shoes, and was currently standing with his hands in his pockets looking at her.

"Sorry, I never meant to startle you." Said the stranger quietly. A smirk was playing at the edges of his lips.

"Who- who are you?!" Hermione asked sharply, taking a hasty step back. She spun her sight around her surrounding, taking note of possible escape routes in case of any signs of danger, before turning back to look at him solemnly.

He must have noticed her flightiness, as he laughed again and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I mean you no harm; I'm just merely investigating something which caught my curiosity."

Taking a stride forwards towards her, he lowered a hand in front of him. "My name's Tom. Tom Riddle. I see you and your...friends...found my old diary. I wonder...just how did you come across it...Hermione, is it? Is that your name?"

Hermione reeled back in shock. She'd been right! There _was _something in that book! She noticed his hand and blushed suddenly. Stepping forward, she met his hand midway as if to shake it, but he instead raised her hand to his face and kissed the back of it lightly, with a small smile.

Blushing harder, she pulled her hand out of his grasp and stepped back slightly.

"Err...yes. My name's Hermione Granger. And it was my friends who discovered your diary, not me, in a bathroom a few floors away from our common room. Apparently the corridor was badly flooded, and they went to investigate."

Realising she was rambling; she quickly finished her spiel and looked down at her feet.

Tom regarded her quietly for a few moments, before inviting her to sit down on a bench next to him, which hadn't been there before.

Hoping to avoid any awkwardness, she sat down and looked expectantly at him, as he pondered over her words.

"Hermione Granger. What a unique name. It suits you." He eventually said, turning his gaze to sweep over her. He continued his sentence again after a few minutes.

"As for my diary, it seems quite an odd place for your...friends...to find it. I can't imagine how it..."

Hermione noticed how he paused over the word "friends" again, but never said anything. Instead, she listened intently in case he gave out any vital information.

Tom completely changed topics however, much to her chagrin.

"Tell me, into which house were you sorted?" he asked, shifting to get more comfortable as he relaxed.

"Gryffindor. What were you? When you attended that is?" she replied in turn, slowly letting down her guard.

"A Gryffindor, eh? I was in Slytherin. I loved every minute of it, Top student y'know.

"How old are you? Which year are you in?"

Hermione was surprised to see how happy he was discussing Hogwarts with her. Bet he wouldn't be like that if he knew about everything that's happened, she thought, what with all the attacks and all.

"I'm in my second year, and I'm 13. I'm a top student too."

He smiled a warm genuine smile at her, which made her blush a bit.

It didn't last long however, as he quickly stood up and turned to look above them. The sky was turning dark. Very fast.

"It looks like our time here is up. Time for you to get up for school, 'Mione."

Hermione's head snapped up to look at him.

"Already?! But...but...we haven't been here long!" Hermione gasped, standing up beside him.

"Time flies when you're having fun." Tom replied silkily, looking down at her with a smirk.

Moving to step away, he took her hand and kissed the back again, in a bid of farewell.

"Till next time." And with that, he slowly pulled his hand away, and the world faded black.

* * *

Hermione awoke to the sound of her alarm, and stretched languidly, before rolling over to turn it off.

What...a strange turn of events.

Never had she felt so happy this early in the morning, so refreshed and ready to start the day.

Even facing Harry and Ron wasn't bothering her! She felt confident enough to get their minds off of the subject and onto more pressing matters. Like the attacks.

She quickly got dressed and rushed downstairs to the common room to meet her friends, a huge smile on her face.

Maybe she would even be able to shed some light on the monster in which was committing the attacks.

One step at a time.


	3. Chapter 2 The Basilisk

A|n – Forgot the disclaimer before this. I do not own the characters, just the story. I'm putting my own spin on things. R&R please!

* * *

Ron and Harry had noticed a certain change In Hermione's behavior over the coming weeks. She no longer stayed up with them at nights, was constantly in the library, and was just generally seeing less and less of them each day. Whenever they asked what was wrong, if they'd upset her somehow or other, she just brushed them off saying she was concerned over the attacks and not to worry over her. It didn't stop them though. They ceased asking her how she was, and instead kept a close eye on her when they could. Even Hagrid hadn't seen her recently.

Hermione's world had completely changed since that one fateful night with Tom. He now visited her every night in her dreams, and she was sure he was there even when she was awake. It made her feel good, knowing there was someone other than Harry and Ron she could speak to.

She'd given up on researching anything to do with the Diary, content with knowing it had gained her a friend. Now, she dedicated her time investigating the attacks. So far, she had no leads. No book had the information she so craved, and it was driving her up the wall.

Closing yet another dusty old volume, she yawned and leant back in her chair, resting her head on the back and closing her eyes.

Make yourself a checklist, she thought determinedly, and work from there. List all the things you know about the attacks, maybe it'll help.

Let's see.

All of the spiders in the castle were running away, escaping via any means they had, in large groups. It was incredibly odd. Spiders were generally solitary creatures. What could possibly scare them enough to cause them to leave in hoards?

No one had died yet. Dumbledore said they had been petrified, and Professor Sprout was growing the mandrakes to create a potion to wake them up.

Sir Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, formerly known as Sir Nicholas De Mimsy Porpington, had been affected. What could possibly affect a ghost?

Hagrid's roosters had been murdered, for no apparent reason. Why would someone feel the need to do such a thing?

Only non Purebloods had become victims. So far, the Slytherins were safe. Could this thing be targeting anyone who wasn't full Pureblood?

The message said the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, Enemies of the heir beware. Salazar Slytherin had been rumoured to make such a place before leaving the castle, leaving the beast behind for the heir. The only enemies of Salazar were non Purebloods. If he had left a beast, it would be something he cared about, or had interest in. Therefore, it would be a snake.

Harry could talk Parceltongue, and had been hearing a voice through the walls. How was this thing moving around?

A snake. That's the only logical explanation. The monster was a snake.

"Clever Girl." She heard a voice whisper to her in her head. She smiled.

Happy with this conclusion, Hermione hopped up and set off down the aisles searching for the book she so direly needed. She found it just round the corner from her table.

Pulling Newt Scamander's "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" from its place on the shelf, she sped back to her seat, barely pausing to set it down on the table in front of her before frantically leafing through the pages. Her fingers danced along the paragraphs as she sought out the creature in question. She found it soon enough.

"The Basilisk"

"Of the many fearsome beast and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or deadly than the Basilisk, Known as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach a gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatchet beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spider's flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of a rooster, which is fatal to it."

Hermione quickly spun her head around, searching for any prying eyes, before ripping the page from the book.

But how was it getting around?

Pipes! Came a thought to her head. The school's plumbing! The pipes would be more than big enough to hold a giant snake!

She wrote this at the bottom of the page for later, just in case she forgot. She had barely finished when a friend of hers appeared before her.

"Hermione Granger, I sure hope my eyes are deceiving me, and you haven't just vandalised a page from a book. Which you also seem to have torn out."

She snapped her head up to stare at the girl in front of her before starting her spiel.

"Penelope! I know what's attacking the pupils in the school! We need to alert Professor Dumbledore!" She stated hurriedly, glancing back down at the page.

Penelope's gaze lowered too, and she was soon sitting next to her friend on the sofa.

"A Basilisk! Are you sure? But nobody's died!" She whispered, horror in her voice.

"Nobody's looked directly at it though, have they? Yes, I am 100% sure this is what we're dealing with. We need to tell a teacher, as quickly as humanely possible." Hermione replied, grabbing the page and tidying away her things.

"Good point. We also need something in case it comes round a corner, so we stay safe, until we get to someone. Something reflective would be best. I think I have a mirror in my bag, hold on a second."

Penelope soon procured a round mirror from her bag which she handed to Hermione. When she received a curious look from her, she just smiled wryly. "My hands are shaking to bad to hold it; I'd end up dropping it." Hermione just smiled back, squeezed her arm, then they set off.

They managed to navigate the maze of books without any trace of trouble, and were soon heading towards the Headmaster's office. They had only gotten to the end of the corridor when Penelope grabbed Hermione's hand and yanked her back.

"There's something round that corner, I can hear it" She whispered hoarsely, her pupils dilating with fear. All the warmth left Hermione's body as she fought to stay calm.

"We can't stay here all night, we have to keep going!" She whispered desperately, searching her friends face for confirmation. "We'll go slowly, ok? When I put this mirror round the corner, look at it with me, just in case, and we should be fine."

Sighing her acceptance, they set off again. They saw nothing to start with as they peered round the corner, but a growing light caught their eye at the other end of the corridor after a few moments. Focusing on it through the mirror, the girls leaned forward to get a better look.

Just as they did though, 2 huge yellow eyes beamed out at them freezing them, followed by a shallow shriek which came from Penelope. Hermione felt like she was dying, as she dropped the mirror and fell to the floor beside her Ravenclaw friend. She couldn't move, and her chest had constricted. She couldn't see, and she felt cold. She panicked, not being able to move, as if she were trapped inside concrete. Hermione could scarcely comprehend what had happened as her brain began to shut down on itself.

She had just met the gaze of the Basilisk.

* * *

A voice came from behind her, and two large and warm arms wrapped round her torso, holding her to another person chest. The voice cracked slightly as it spoke to her, as she sat in the familiar grassy meadow. Turning, she was met with the sight of a nervous and frustrated Tom, who brushed the hair from her face, looking at her as if she were made of glass.

"Oh Merlin Hermione, I am so sorry."


	4. Chapter 3 The truth comes out

A- Not mine. My twist on things. SORRY FOR THE WAIT! R&R!

Hermione's head began to clear rapdily, her focus sharpening, as she checked for any damages, mentally and physically. Finding no abnormalities, she began to relax into the thing she could feel keeping her upright.

She was alright. She was still alive. She was safe. She could feel someone's arms wrapped tightly around her…

Slowly. she cracked open one eye, to look upon the smartly dressed arms nestled around her rib cage.

"Tom?" She whispered quietly, trying to wrap her head around the situation.

She was in her own head, there was no basilisk….but she was with Tom…how did the snake find her..?

Wait a minute…what did he just say?

She pushed herself away from him forcefully, tumbling a few feet, eyeing him as if he had just burnt her. She stood facing him with a glare, and soon, He stood up too.

"What do you mean "I'm so sorry"?! Did you have something to do with that…that _monster_?!" She shrieked, panic rising in the pit of her stomach.

Tom sighed heavily, his hands coming to rest inside his suit pockets. Here we go, just what

I've always wanted, a hysterical school girl. He returned her stare. How…ironic.

"You mean that _Basilisk _you just this very minute met? Yes. I do. He's mine." He replied silkily, as if talking about a pet dog he'd owned all of his life. After brushing some non-existent dust from his impeccably attire, he turned to face her again.

Bile rose to the back of Hermione's throat. "S-so you've been attempting to...to _murder _all of those innocent people?! The one's now in the hospital wing? To murder me?"

Tom's face sharpened slightly, an icy look in his eyes, which was almost inhuman.

"At first? Yes. I'm the heir of Slytherin, it was expected. Then it became like a game, a lovely, entertaining, addictive-"

"YOU'RE SICK!"

"-means of distraction. Then of course, I heard about the famous Harry Potter-" He continued, as if he hadn't heard her.

Hermione tried in vain to put her hands over her ears, and shut her eyes, but it was almost as if an invisible force were holding her still. She couldn't move.

"- so of course, I had to meet him. Then I met you, by means of my diary, not long after he discovered it. What a day that was, eh?  
There you were, just innocently leafing through my book, when low and behold, your clever brain told you to get away from it. Too late though! Then you told me you were "best friends" with this boy, so it was only natural that I-"

"So, all this time, through everything you've said, you were just using me?! After _everything_?" She gasped fretfully, her struggle against the bonds holding her temporarily forgotten.

Tom's mouth twisted in a cruel smile. "Yes, I suppose you could put it like that. You've been my own little toy for the past few months. One I wouldn't share with anyone…" He trailed of in a possessive, growly tone. A tone which had won over many before her….

Hermione spat at him. "You- you horrid, deceitful, disgusting liar! I hate you! I absolutely despise you!" Her head barely moved as she tried to turn away from him " AND LET ME GO!"

His eyes filled with a dark emotion she couldn't comprehend at that moment, and he stalked towards her dangerously, foreboding in every step. Her eyes widened.

"Just what are you trying to say, Hermione dearest? You want me to go? Leave you and your miserably dull life alone?" Each word was mocking, like it's own brand of venom. She didn't even flinch. Instead, She narrowed her doe eyes at him, and spoke swiftly.

"And. Don't. Ever. Come. Back."

The smirk left his face instantly, and he took a few steps back, as if her words had hit him like a brick wall.  
Almost regretfully, he walked past her slowly, his head high.

"Fine, as you wish."

He disappeared in a flash if green light, and Hermione was released.

She dropped to the ground on her knees, her heart beating wildly. She barely took time to notice his exit, and rather, focuses on another thought blooming in her mind.

"How am I going to save Harry?!"

* * *

Tom reappeared in a place which was the complete opposite of the place he'd just come from. There was no grass, only cracked and worn away concrete. There was no shining sun.

He was the only living thing for miles.

It was cold, bone chillingly so, and so dark and gloomy that he couldn't see before him, and yet, he didn't stumble.

His rage and animosity was slowly dissipating , and in it's place, dare he say it, was guilt? Sadness?

Spending so long in Hermione's head had had a strange affect on him, as if now, he had the capacity to feel the emotions most humans could. Like he...was normal.

He didn't like, this. He didn't like this at all.

Coming to a halt, he gracefully sat down on a stone bench, next to a graveside he knew only too well.

His filthy muggle of a father's final resting place. Pity his mind could remember it so well.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his handsome face, and stared at the uneven ground before him. All he could do now, was wait, until something happened. Til he re-entered reality. Until Hermione changed her mind and let him back in.

He hated waiting.


	5. Chapter 4 What?

A/N: Not mine. Just my spin on things. Please, R&R.

Utterly exhausted after a full year of demanding classes and fear, Hermione was finally able to relax at home, in her own bed. In a few weeks, she would be joining the Weasley's and Harry to watch the 131st Quidditch world cup, an event which had the boys bursting with excitement. She was looking forward to seeing them immensely, but for now, she just wanted to read her new books and attempt to clear her mind.

Y'know, it's a real shame when you try to do that, and all of a sudden, every thought under the bloody sun start to batter their way across your skull, vying for your interest or just to annoy you.

As she pushed aside constant hoards of thoughts of future classes, past mistakes and losses, a certain someone came into view in her minds eye. And soon, nothing else occupied her attention.

Tom.

Strangely enough….she wasn't angry at him anymore. The feelings of hatred and resentment towards him had faded, pictures of him lying defenseless as she hexed him to oblivion were gone. She no longer felt vulnerable just thinking of him. Nope, now she was proud to say, she felt nothing.

Okay, well maybe not nothing, but a little spark.

Well alright, maybe not a little spark…but a small fire.

An inferno.

An emptiness in her head and heart wishing to be filled with him again.

Oh dear.

Turning over in her bed, she huffed loudly. Why did he have to turn out to be such a…a narcissistic evil little git?! Why is it that everyone's after Harry?!

Memories of past dreams with him swam in front of her eyes like a swarm, bright and harsh, creeping into every corner of her head, like a colourful explosion

She closed them desperately, but they wouldn't leave.

Picnics….whispers in the meadow….dances…..embraces…..smells….His smell….

Before she could register what was going on, Hermione's unconscious took over and her world went blissfully dark.

Outside, nothing moved.

* * *

"This place sure is….morbid….and boring." Tom yawned, stretching out along the wall next to the bench he'd originally sat on.

He couldn't tell you how much time had passed, or which season it was, but he could recite the entire chemical make-up and steps for making Felix Felicis…or Amortentia.

I could do with a little Felix right now, he mused, as he leapt off the wall like a cat, landing gracefully on his feet. Maybe then something good would happen for once. Muggle bating and murder weren't appealing to him at that present time.

And he was no longer interested in the boy named Harry Potter, but the ache in his chest where he'd been stabbed still twinged. Little git.

Why oh why, of all places, did I choose to come here?! This….icky, filthy place! He berated himself, looking around him in disgust. I could have picked a comfortable hotel, with entertainment, with all the women I could ever possibly need, but instead I come here, alone.

Why?!

Because of Hermione, you utter twit. A voice resounded in his head.

Oh yeah. That one!

She was a git too.

You don't mean that….A voice called tauntingly, annoying him further.

"Yes I do."

Nope….pretty sure you don't.

"Will you shut up! Leave me alone, I don't want to think about Her!" He yelled childishly, striding away from the wall and down the dreary path which led to the rest of the graveyard. The voice followed.

Admit it…you like the girl. You miss her…

"I will not, do not, shut up."

Oh yes you dooo-ooo….

"NO I DON'T! She's just…..interesting."

Oohhh interesting….

"Yes, interesting!"

….You like her.

"No I don't, How would you even know?! We haven't seen her in…..a while!"

Because I'm in your head, you idiot. And it's your own fault this happened, you shouldn't have released the snake.

"But…but….But it needed exercised! And those filthy mud bloods are taking over that pla-"

Hermione's a mud blood.

Tom stopped walking, his head cast low.

"S'not my fault. She should have stayed in the library."

You tried to kill her best friend…..

"He deserved it. He killed me first."

You like her. Stop avoiding it. You do.

"I RUDDY WELL DON'T"

Uh huh...not buying it buddy.

"For the love of Merlin, go AWAY."

Without looking up, he strode forward and passed through an archway which hadn't been there before.

Colour suddenly blinded him, and a sweet smell entered his senses. A soft combed through his hair. He stumbled blindly, and successfully knocked himself and another person over. A much smaller and softer, person.

"Bloody Hell! What in Merlin's name just ha-"

He heard a startled gasp, one he'd been waiting too long too hear.

"T-Tom?! Is that you?!" A voice sounded, a few feet away.

Tom's head snapped up, and a funny feeling entered his abdomen.

The voice snickered in his head. Told you so.

Mentally swatting his hand at the voice, he pushed himself forward on all fours, and stared into the eyes of Hermione Granger.

"Wait…whaaa…? I shouldn't be….Why am I….How did you….'Mione, what's going on?" He drawled quickly, eyes searching his new surroundings.

Hermione smiled up at him from her place sprawled on the grass. "I guess I let you back in….somehow."

Tom dragged a hand down his face, before peeking back at her.

"How long was I…gone for?" He asked curiously, his mind still trying to wrap itself around the situation.

"Oohh….About a year. Roughly, give or take a few days. Miss me?" She laughed, her hair shielding her face.

He inclined his head towards her, an eyebrow rising on his smooth forehead. "A bit."

The young man then took a moment to look at the girl before him, and was pleasantly surprised to see she'd filled out a bit, and her hair had calmed down. She looked...nice.

"Me too."

Startled out of his reverie, he flashed her a genuine grin, and winked at her. "Good to hear."

Narrowly missing her playful slap, he fell onto the grass beside her, laughing heartily. Hermione soon joined in, and once more, the pair were in familiar comfortable atmosphere.

Rolling onto his back, Tom sighed deeply, crossed his ankles and placed his hands behind his head.

"So…Tell have I missed?"

"Wouldn't you like to know..."

Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he heard the voice once more.

Oh bloody hell, here we go again.

He smiled gently at the voice, before flipping onto his side towards 'Mione with a straight face.

"Spill it" He whispered dramatically, pulling at the grass around him.

"Okay" She whispered back, giggling.

* * *

"We-e-ell, precious, looks like it's about time to wake up. You've slept late this morning, naughty girl" He winked teasingly, and continued, " And your mum's about to come into your room to tell you she's away out with your Dad to do shopping. What. To. Do."

Hermione smiled at him, before brushing herself off and getting up. She pulled Him up alongside her, before turning to walk away.

"Bye Tom. It's good to see you again. I missed you."

Tom overtook her, pulling her into a hug which lifted her off her feet.

"And I you, Miss Granger." He said softly into her neck. "You don't know half of it." Pulling away, he pecked her on the cheek before setting her back on her feet.

"I'll see you later."

As the sky darkened, Hermione began to fade back into reality. "See you later."

* * *

Now that Tom had been welcomed back into the realms of Hermione's mind, he quickly left. Back to the graveyard.

"Damn head of her's! I-I shouldn't be able to feel like this! I don't want to feel like this! What happened to me being indifferent?! The Amortentia potion my mother fed my dad should be preventing this!" He yelled frantically, kicking a nearby headstone in frustration.

Oh, dear friend of mine, It's quite simple.

"I thought I got rid of you?!"

Never in a million years.

*Sigh*

"Well then, Mr. Wise, what the hell is going on?"

You're technically sharing a body, Tom. This body has feelings, all the correct Hormones. Your imprint is copying them into you.

"What?! That's ridiculous. I refuse to accept that."

The voice chuckled deeply. You can't argue with yourself you know, better leave it alone.

"But...but what if she...you know...ends up feeling the same way?!" The fact hit Tom hard. "No, no no no no no, this cannot proceed. I have to cut all connections with her. Now."

Why is that?

Tom's heart dropped.

"Because, the way I am now no longer exists. She can't spend the rest of her life alone. She needs someone _Real."_

So...what are you going to do?

Tom put his head in his hands.

"I have no idea."


	6. Chapter 5 Not a clever thing to do

A/N: Not Mine. Sigh.

"I have no idea."

The words resounded in the empty space around Tom, almost taunting him with his lack of initiative. He sighed, resting his arms on his knees, and rubbing his temples. He could feel the invisible voice inside his head smirk at him wryly. He could just imagine it sitting shaking it's head at him. It angered him.

Woahhh there, calm yourself!

"Why can't you just leave me alone already?" He ground out though his teeth. He had mental images of ripping it to shreds. Piece by rotten piece.

Someone's a bit touchy.

"S'Got nothing to do with you. Just go away." He mumbled.

But, you see, it actually does. Not to shock you or anything, but I'm actually part of your mind. So, strangely enough, I can't leave. And The voice dripped with sarcasm. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind. Moving on...

"SHUT UP."

Make me.

Tom stood up in annoyance, intending on going for a walk to clear his "Thoughts". He'd barely travelled a few feet, when something decided to change his scenery, dragging the floor from beneath his feet in a matter of seconds. He felt completely disorientated as his feet accustomed themselves to the new ground he was now on, and the feeling increased as he took in his surroundings.

He was in...Hogwarts? What in fresh hell?! Even The Voice was shocked into a long overdue silence.

Turning to stare around him, Tom drank in the tantalising sight meeting his gaze. Nothing had changed in the old place. There were still hoardes of Portraits, lining the walls up the main staircase. The Great Hall was exactly where he recalled it to be...Everything was there. Familiarity flooded through his senses, recomposing him, and soon curiosity caught hold of his attention. Feeling the urge to explore the school, He decided on taking the corridor on the left of the staircase, attempting to remember everywhere once more. He felt almost giddy.

After a few moments, he realised that he was outside the library, the place he'd spent most of his adolescent life. Every nerve in his body tingled with mischief, as his thoughts travelled to a positive subject. Hermione would be in there. Checking the time on his watch, he clarified his previous thought. Yep, she was in there.

Oh dear, this would be too fun.

XXXXXXXX

Hermione sat at the back of the dusty room, bent over a thick book on Transfiguration. She had nothing else to do that night, and the boys had decided to discuss the visiting schools for the evening. Not a topic which interested her to great levels.

She rubbed her nose lightly on her sleeve, as she sat closer to the table.  
It was freezing, baltically so. Probably snowing again, she thought to herself distractedly, turning the page. She couldn't bring herself to leave. Not yet.

If she did, she might run into Him. It had been awkward enough when Viktor had asked her to the ball; running into him would make it worse. And his fan group.

She growled lowly. She hated people disturbing her reading.

Almost lost in her book again, she heard a muffled scrape coming from her left, and turned towards it frantically. Surely he wouldn't have come back so soon? She sure hoped not. He was a lovely guy an all, but she still didn't want to see him.

The sound came again, but this time closer to her. She stared at the looming bookcase in question, furrowing her brow. There was nothing there!

Oh I assure you, princess, you're quite wrong.

The voice entered her head slowly, covering her mind in a cloak of honey. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Who's there?!" She stated venomously. Whoever it was, they were intruding on her space.

No reply came.

Turning back to her book, Hermione froze. Someone had trailed their fingers along the back of her neck. The hand was distinctively male. She blushed heavily, before peeking up between the curtains of her hair, trying to see who'd done it. No sight greeted her.

"Who's THERE?! PEEVES?!"

Ohh, _so feisty_. Something wrong darling? The voice breathed across her cheek, and something lightly stroked the back of her hand. Nope, certainly not Peeves.

Hermione's head whipped up again, pulling her hand into herself, searching in vain for the apparition which spoke to her. What the bloody hell was going on?!

"L-leave me alone!" She called uncertainly, right on edge. Should she call on someone? Perhaps she should run? Might be an idea.

My my, so soon? But I was having such fun...

Her book skidded across her table, before restoring itself to its correct shelf near her. She didn't even get the chance to grab it.

She pressed into the back of her chair, breathing quickly through her nose, her eyes clenched shut.

Have I scared you Princess? Such a pity. And here I was thinking all Gryffindors were brave. My mistake.

An invisible finger twisted a curl round its finger, and tugged playfully, before pulling way once more.

Her nostrils flared as her eyes pinged open. She was at the end of her patience. She was leaving.

"Whoever you are, you're being a foul nuisance. Kindly leave me alone. Buh-bye." She said in a a voice sweet enough to rot teeth. "Have a nice night."

She swung her bag back onto her shoulder, and started her trek back to her dorm. It wasn't without more actions.

As she rounded a corner, she felt the unknown source trail a hand down her arm and chuckle.

Reaching the librarian's desk, she felt it pinch her bum.

Arriving at the door, she felt something fall into step beside her, blowing on her face, catching her hand, stealing her bag...

"YOU AGGRAVATING, NAUSEATING, HORRIBLE THING! GIVE ME BACK MY BLOODY BAG!"

The "thing" made her jump for it first, making a fool of herself, before dropping it on the other end of the corridor.

"Finally!" She said, running towards it.

She ended up sprawled on the floor, with a thud. The being had placed a barrier between her and her bag.

Say please, like a good girl. The voice teased from beside her ear.

"Why should I? You've been an annoying leech all evening!"

Tut tut. That's not very nice is it? You won't be getting your bag back at this rate I'm afraid.

Hermione growled loudly in answer.

" . !"

No. Say the magic word Princess.

"ARGHHHH! FINE! CAN I PLEASE HAVE MY BAG BACK?!"

She heard it laugh.

Of course, dearest. That wasn't too hard now was it? Have a nice night.

The presence left, and she was left with an icy look in her eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Tom had had too much fun with their little encounter. He kept snickering to himself, as he traipsed along to the Slytherin common room. How lucky he was to be invisible right then. He'd apologise to her somehow soon.

He managed to guess the password easily enough, and stalked into the room care-free. He shoved a blonde Slytherin boy with a pompous expression off of the couch with a wave of his hand, before taking up residence there himself. He watched wordlessly as the boy clambered hastily to his feet, checking that no one else had seen what had happened. Luckily for him, they hadn't.

The boy brushed himself off with a dirty look, before walking away towards the dorms, muttering something about his father. He snorted, directing his attention away from the scab.

He laughed again to himself, quietly so no one heard him. He couldn't believe he was actually at Hogwarts again. He had the entire school at his disposal, once more, and he stretched catlike, basking in his new power. No one could see him, and as long as he stayed for away from Dumbledore, no one would be any wiser.

Oh what fun he'd have, terrorising Hermione in her classes.

Closing his eyes, he resting his head on the arm of the couch, his long legs crossed at the ankle on the other side, his hands clasped along his torso.

It had been a good night.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione slammed open the portrait to the Gryffindor common room, fury in her every step. She swore to herself to find out whatever that thing had been, so she could hex it into oblivion. Her gaze swept straight past her two best friends who had been attempting to catch her attention, and she stomped her way up to her bed.

Throwing on her Pyjamas, she lay on her bed in a huff, too stressed to think about sleep. What would Tom have done if he'd been there?

He wouldn't have let that ghost terrorise me! She thought acidly, her eyes burning a hole through the canopy of her 4 poster. Why her of all people?! Why target her? What had she done so wrong to deserve that?!

She heard the other girls coming up the stairs, and quickly closed the curtains facing the rest of her dorm, sealing them shut with her wand. The last thing she wanted that night was company, and if she was correct, judging by their footsteps, they were going to be up a while. She cast a silencing charm under her breath, before turning onto her side, towards the window.

It was a lovely night, clear and full of stars. A slight breeze wafted over her, carrying the scent of pine and magic. So relaxing...so cool...

Before she knew it, the bookworm was lost in thought of a certain tall, dark and handsome man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What the bloody hell was wrong with Granger tonight?!" Fred asked Harry exhasperatedly, as he plonked himself down beside him and his brother.

"I know! I mean, she nearly set flames to the carpet she was staring at it that hard! What did you guys do this time?!" George joined in, lounging along the floor on his side.

"Surprisingly enough, nothing this time. She's been a bit off for ages now." Ron replied solemnly, his eyes moving to fix on the ceiling where the girls dorms were.

"We haven't really seen her since we came back." Harry murmered, a sad look crossing his face. "I miss her. So does Ron. Classes just haven't been the same lately."

The twins just stared at the boy's faces with a frown.

"I'm sure she'll came bouncing back soon enough, mate." Fred said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, who's up for a game of exploding snap? We've brought food!"

They all laughed, and were soon engrossed in their game.

Oblivious to their actions, Hermione sat up suddenly in bed, knocking half of her quilt to the floor. She couldn't explain it, but something felt strange. Looking down, she noticed something silver glint just out of her gaze, and grabbed her mirror to get a better look.

Hanging between her collarbones was a fine chain, so slight that it felt like a feather caressing her skin. Pulling it up from between the valley of her chest, she caught sight of the pendant.

It was a Lion and a Snake, entwined around the word "Destiny" in latin. It was still warm, as if someone had just recently placed it around her neck.

A warm feeling spread through her abdomen, making her heart flutter. For some strange reason, she just knew it was from Tom. Smiling to herself, she lay down again, playing with the necklace in a content manner, all thoughts of the aggravating evening she'd had behind her, Viktor farthest of all.

Soon, Hermione was lost to the land of dreams.


	7. Chapter 6 Mischief

A/N: Not mine, sadly. Because you're all so special, I'm updating twice this week. Also, if it's getting annoying with time jumps etc, let me know?

Hermione opened her eyes to her usual dream land, and the familiar occupant. She smiled widely at him, fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

"Hey Tom."

"Why, hello there 'Mione. How are you fairing today?" He replied with a cheeky grin. He was currently stretched out along a thick bow in the oak tree above her, swinging one of his legs. He wasn't fully dressed up today. Just a black shirt, opened halfway down his torso, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his trousers and his shoes.

"It was...tedious. I was studying in the library tonight, when out of nowhere, this...entity of sorts starts messing around with me, winding me up to breaking point, and then disappears!" She stated slowly, climbing up beside him, her hair pulled out of her face. She tried not to stare as she sat down next to him in the nook of the branches. "It was so aggravating! It kept calling me princess!"

Tom quirked an eyebrow, his best poker face on. "My lord, that sounds _horrible." _ He tried his hardest not to let his smile win and break over his face. Instead, he leaned further back, and rested the back of his head on his arm.

"It was! Next time it bothers me, I'm going to hex it so badly that it won't be distinguishable anymore. It will just be mutilated!" She stated darkly, glowering at a butterfly as it flew by.

He didn't move, all thoughts slamming to a halt. Hex him?!

He was Tom Riddle! The latter form of the monster reining terror on the real world now.

He was scared momentarily.

"Err...Hermione? Did it really hurt you so badly? I mean, It did not bring you harm, darling. Perhaps you are reading too far into this?" Tom said with concern, eyeing her. She sighed.

"It just...I mean, I was trying to read and...Y'know, it kept trying to...it was male and..."

Hold the phone; did he just call her darling?!

"Tom...Did you have anything at all to do with what happened tonight?" She whispered in a deathly quiet voice. Her eyes burned into the side of his head.

"Maybe..." He said, his voice trailing off as he focused on the leaf next to him. What a nice leaf. So green, so vibrant and velvety. Damn that's a nice leaf.

"REALLY?! WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU FEEL THE NEED TO TAUNT ME LIKE THAT?! BEING ALL...SUGGESTIVE AND ALL THAT! HOW _DARE_ YOU?!" She shrieked, her hair crackling with unspent magic.

"I got bored. Like, unnaturally bored! And...I ended up in Hogwarts somehow, and you know the rest. Thought you'd forgiven me after I gave you that-"He ended, pointing at the necklace round her throat. "I gave you that as a sign of surrender. Pleasedon'tfalloutwithmeagain"

Hermione huffed, but gave him a small smile. "Fine. And Thanks. It's a really nice necklace."

Tom smiled back. "Glad you like it."

Resting back on his arms once more, mischievousness took over him again. "'Mione...?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes?"

"How would you like to play...a little game with me?" He asked, his eyes closed. He smirked when he heard her draw in a sharp breath.

"What kind of game?"

"A fun one."

"And what do we do...In this game?"

"We have fun."

"What are the rules?

"To have fun."

"What are the conditions?!"

"To have fun, or wake up trying."

"TOM!"

"MIONE."

"WILL YOU GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER ALREADY?!"

"Nope. You're not having fun. 'Fraid we'll have to wait till you calm down."

Hermione drew in a long breath, before turning to face him once more.

"Tom, dearest, will you be nice enough to tell me what this game's about?" She asked sweetly, smiling softly.

Tom cracked open one eye at her, seeming to ponder over her question, before closing it again. "No."

"Then how're we supposed to play this game?!"

"You need to be relaxed first."

"I am relaxed."

"No you're not."

"Uh, yeh, I am!"

"Nope. Definitely not."

"I am."

"I think you'll find, darling, that you most certainly are not."

Hermione balled up her fists and screwed her eyes shut. "Plllleeeaaaaaaaaaaaasssseeee tell meeee!"

Tom peeked open an eye again, before flashing her a grin. "Well, since you're so eager..."

He sat up suddenly, waving his hand flippantly as a bottle of something unknown, and two glasses appeared in his lap. He smiled wolfishly once more, before pouring them both a measure, and handing her a glass. "Let's play my favourite game. It's most commonly known to muggle's as "Truth". Except with me, you if you pass? You drink the entire glass. And since it's Saturday tomorrow, you're going to get to play much longer. Oh, and it might get...a little...personal..."

Her brow frowned at him, before sniffing the contents of her glass. "Err...what exactly is this stuff?"

He just tilted her head at him. "Sip and see."

She wrinkled her nose. "Doesn't matter. You start then big shot."

"Why, thank you gorgeous, such an honour." He teased, raising his glass to her. "Alrighty, let's see. Oooohhh...Current crush?"

Hermione snorted. "That's a bit girly for you, is it not? Hmmm let's see...Maybe Fred Weasley? Or...Well, Cedric Diggory isn't too bad..." She mused, swirling the strange substance in her hand.

Tom glowered at the top of her head. He'd have to find out who these guys were, to see what competition he was up against. He sniffed indignantly. Filthy...Normal guys.

"You're go."

"Favourite pick-up line?"

Tom raised both of his eyebrows in surprise, before he looked at her sensually; flipping his eyes from her gaze to trace around her lips, then leant right in. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her attention was captivated towards his incoming mouth as she found herself leaning towards him in turn...

At the last possible moment, he stopped. "I don't need one." He whispered, before smirking and pulling back. She couldn't repress the shiver which travelled down her back. She felt boneless.

"My turn again! HA HA HA! Let's see...Darkest fantasy?"

Hermione went beetroot. "Nope, not answering that." She exclaimed downing her glass.

"Oh really? I'll find out soon enough Princess." He winked at her, before resuming his relaxed position.

She kept her head high as he refilled her glass.

"My turn, do you ever wear anything other than a suit?"

"Mmmm...I like my suits. Leave's things to the imagination..."He said slowly, stretching slightly, causing his shirt to show more bare skin.

"Why don't you do your hair up, and wear cosmetics?" He asked seriously, genuinely interested in her answer.

"Because, I don't think there's much point. Everyone sees me as the annoying, bossy Bookworm, so that's how I act." She bowed her head at the last bit.

The Slytherin reached over and brushed his thumb over her knuckles causing her to look up. "You've got a ball coming up in a week or so, do you not? Why not show yourself off then?"

"Maybe I will."

"Good, that's what I like to hear. Then, when you go to sleep that night, you can show me how you looked?"

"We'll see."

He pouted at her. "Pleaseeee 'Mione? I haven't been to a ball in decades! This means alot to me!"

"I dunno..."

"That's a yes then. Brilliant."

* * *

Hermione woke up, a feeling of exhilaration running through her veins. She spent her day planning for the ball, down to the last hair clip. The dress was the most bother. She decided to owl Madam Malkin's for help.

_Dear Madam Malkin,_

_As you may know, the Yule Ball at Hogwarts is in a few weeks. I'm really struggling to find the right dress for the night, and was wondering if you could please help? I have enclosed a picture of me, 15 galleons, as well as my measurements. Please reply soon._

_Best Regards,_

_Hermione Granger._

Just 2 hours later, She got her answer.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I'd be delighted to help you out. I've come up with the perfect dress, and shall have it delivered within 3 days. I have included shoes as part of the deal, and am refunding you 3 galleons. The shoes are heeled, but I have used a cushioning charm in the stitching so that your feet will last longer into the night. _

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Madam Malkin._

Reading her reply, Hermione let out a very unexpected squeal as she did a little victory dance.

She, was going to look good.

For once.

She could just imagine everyone's faces on the night, as she skipped up to her dorm to finish of her potions essay, and for once in a long time, she felt truly happy.


	8. Chapter 7 The Dance

A/N: Not mine. *Sigh* Slight swearing in this one.

* * *

Hermione rushed back to her dorm, her hair cascading down her back as it escaped her clasp. Her broken sobs filled the corridors, and her heels clacked together in her hands.

Stupid Ron! She thought viciously, her tears blinding her as she sprinted up the stairs to the common room. Why couldn't he have sucked up all his bloody ignorance and let her enjoy herself for once in her _miserable life?!_

The periwinkle blue dress floated around her knees as she climbed through the portrait, as light as a feather. Ignoring everyone else currently in there, Hermione proceeded up the stairs to her room.

She was rough while scouring off her make-up, and decided to just leave her hair to tangle. Her shoes and dress were thrown into the corner next to her bed, and her pyjamas were dragged over her head.

I hate him. How could he do this to me? How could he make her feel so dirty and insignificant in just one sentence? Harry didn't even stick up for her either, though he was staring at Cho. Everyone else had had a good time, except her. She felt lousy.

She cried herself to sleep that night, humility taking over every other raging hormone in her body, and she welcomed it like a moth to a flame.

* * *

Opening her eyes, all breath left her lungs. Gone was the meadow in which she usually inhabited, and in its place was a gold and crystal ballroom, like something out of a movie. She twirled, and realised she was dressed up again, her dress hugging her curves, and her hair pinned upon her head. Hermione grinned widely, spinning herself into the room, as she heard someone behind her gasp.

"Mmmm wow, you do clean up nicely. Such _a pleasure_." Tom's voice drawled, dripping with admiration. "You look stunning."

She turned to look at him, her eyes sparkling. Her eyes roamed, before meeting his smouldering gaze. "Not too shabby yourself, new suit?"

Tom glanced over himself, before looking up at her through his lashes. "Of course. Couldn't be caught wearing my usual." He bowed and took her hand, his lips grazing over her knuckles.

"Would you give me the pleasure of joining me in a dance? He whispered across her hand, his eyes settling on her cute blush gracing her cheeks.

"O-of course. Yes." She replied, caught up in the situation. He stood, before slipping an arm round her waist, and leading her into the centre of the room.

"I figured you wouldn't be too familiar with our kind of music, so I made up a list of more known muggle songs instead, which I heard today when you were singing this morning. You have a nice voice." Tom stated, spinning her to face him.

Hermione blushed harder, the thought of him hearing her embarrassing her to no end. "Thanks."

Just as the opening chords sounded around her, she was gripped in a panic.

"T-Tom?! I...I'm not a very good dancer..." She muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

He just laughed.

"My my, 'Mione, you wound me. I'm the leader her, what makes you think you'll fail? Do you trust me?" He said, with mock hurt on his face.

"Yes, I do."

He smirked his trademark smile. "Excellent, let's begin."

"_It was Christmas Eve babe...In the Drunk Tank...An old man said to me...won't see another one..."_

Tom began by pressing forwards, encouraging to step back. He led her across the floor in a slow waltz, his gaze never leaving hers, his face and posture serious.

He really does like dancing, huh? She thought, as he changed direction yet again. How sweet...

"'Mione, I know you're not a good dancer, but you're going to have to learn pretty fast." His voice resonated through her thoughts, and realisation hit her. The song was about to speed up.

He pulled her closer to him, waiting for his cue. The band began.

"They got cars big as bars, they got rivers of gold  
But the wind goes right through you, It´s no place for the old  
When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve  
You promised me Broadway was waiting for me..."

Their waltz turned into a jive, and soon he was spinning her, dipping her, turning her, the whole 9 yards. She didn't have time to catch her breath, and their laughter rang out like bells.

To make matters worse, he decided to make her laugh harder by singing the song to her too, as he lifted her, twirled her, threw her out to the side and back in till she crashed into his arms.

"_You´re a bum, you´re a punk__  
You´re an old slut on junk__  
lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed__..."_

She joined in soon, her cheeky streak shining through.

"_You scumbag, you maggot__  
You cheap lousy faggot__  
Happy Christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last"._

His expression was priceless, as she was once more dipped until her hair swept the floor, and pulled straight back into him. His eyebrows were raised, but not in disappointment. Oh no, he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Sweet Merlin, she looks good. And so much for not being able to dance...

Oi! Stop ogling her! You said you were going to attempt to move past this!

The annoying voice was back.

Seriously? You have to barge in now? No. Bugger off, and you can have a go at me all you like once the night's over. I'm too busy enjoying this dance to listen to you.

It's not just the dance you're enjoying...

It disappeared soon enough, much to his immense relief, and just in time for the final chorus.

"_The boys in the NYPD choir still singing Galway Bay, and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day."_

The song finished to Tom twisting Hermione in a complex move, and their heavy breathing filling the silence.

"Phew, I thought it would never end!" Hermione laughed, reaching up to adjust her hair as she attempted to calm her breathing.

"Indeed? I quite liked it too. You're quite the dancer, you know. "He replied, turning to lead her to a romantic table next to them. He pulled out her chair before settling her in it, and joining her at the other side. With a snap of his fingers, 2 glasses filled with the same unknown substance from the other night appeared in front of them, and two menus.

The night proceeded with much laughter and enjoyment, never a boring moment.

This is the night I've always been wanting, Hermione thought, her gaze slipping to stare at him once more. His head was bowed as he fixed his cufflinks, and adjusted his shirt. He'd removed his jacket due to the heat, and had once more rolled up his sleeves and taken out a few buttons. He was breathtaking.

A newer, slower song had started, and Tom glanced up at her with a wink, before taking her hand again, and leading her back onto the floor.

"This is one of my favourites..." HE whispered into her ear, causing Goosebumps to erupt over her skin. Instead of drawing back this time, he merely adjusted his position so his chin rested next to her head, his hands upon her waist. Hermione's hands twisted up shyly to link wrists behind his neck, her head next to his collarbone.

He smelled of something spicy, and dark, full of secrets and magic. It was intoxicating, as she laid her head against his chest, shuffling along with Tom as the song played.

"_The nights are colder now, maybe I should close the door  
And anyway the snow has covered all your footsteps  
And I can follow you no more  
The fire still burns at night  
My memories are warm and clear  
But everybody knows it's hard to be alone at this time of year.."_

Every so often he would adjust his head, or bend down to whisper something hilarious or sweet in her ear, lulling her into a warm trance. Sadly, the night was almost over.

The song drew to a close, and with it, so did their dance.

He stood back, and kissed her hand once more. "I thank you, for a wonderful evening, Miss Granger. I can merely hope we may have another soon."

Hermione looked up at him with a smirk, and slowly pulled her hand back. "Sure. I'd like that."

Tom grinned, before turning to leave.

Something stopped him however, and before either of them knew it, he had walked back, taken her into his arms, tipped her head up, and kissed her soundly.

They both froze, taken by surprise, before laughing lightly and pulling back.

"Night 'Mione, have a nice day..." He said silkily, taking a few steps back.

"Night Tom, see you tomorrow."

The room faded around them, and reality was there to meet Hermione as she woke up.

* * *

Tom stayed in the same position for what seemed like hours, before he too turned and vanished.

He wasn't too surprised to find that he was still inside Hogwarts, but decided to leave Hermione alone for now.

He stepped out of the castle and down towards the lake, his favourite place went wanting to be alone. He loved the scenery, the calmness...the smells...the lot. And today, he would make sure no other being was there with him.

Soooo...still thinking of giving up on her?

Back so soon? He thought back wearily, sitting with his back against a familiar oak tree. It smelled faintly of his little Bookworm, but he waved that thought away.

Indeed I am. You really like that girl, huh?

Yeh...strangely enough I do. Why?

What're you asking me for? I'm not the one going dancing with her and kissing her randomly, am I? It shot back.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his rugged features. He'd allowed slight stubble to adorn his cheeks sub-consciously, not really paying attention to his actions.

I just don't understand it! When that young redhead opened my diary and wrote to me, I felt nothing. Just slight annoyance to her immaturity. So why, when 'Mione comes along, am I suddenly entranced? She only flicked through it!

Why do you keep calling her 'Mione? Quite a nice pet name...

It's not a pet name; it's just shorter than saying Hermione.

Apologies, but I beg to differ. It's a pet name. You really like her, old boy.

We have been through this, she's just new. Interesting. That is it.

Then why did you kiss her? That has _got_ to count for something.

Yes, but it's wrong! I'm a bloody Horcrux, a mere memory of that monstrosity I have become! She can't become attached to me! I'm old enough to be her father! Her _Grand_father! What the bloody hell have I gotten myself into?!

But you're not her Grandfather, and you haven't aged a day since you turned 19. What's the hold up?

She's only 15.

But mentally, she's ages with you.

Regardless, it's still wrong! She can never be with me except in dreams!

Then why don't you leave? Find some other mortal to inhabit?

I can't, I couldn't leave her like that. This past year was bad enough. Kindly just leave me alone now?

Fine, fine. But you need to face it soon enough. Farewell for now.

Tom resigned himself to a day full of turmoil, as he set wards around the lake to prevent intruder's. When did his existence get so complicated?

* * *

" 'Mione? MIONE! WILL YOU SLOW DOWN A MINUTE!?" Harry yelled, racing after her on the way to Hogsmeade.

"Why? Why should I?! You weren't to concerned about me last night!" She exclaimed, turning to face him angrily.

He was beside her in moments, as Ron sped to catch up. "I'm sorry, I really am. No excuse will change that. I'm sorry we spoiled your night."

Ron soon caught up, and stood supporting himself on Harry as he fought to catch his breath.

I...I...I'm s-so so-orry Mione. I w-was bei-ing an ass. Pl-please forgive me!" He gasped, his face redder than his usual standard.

Hermione kept up her cold exterior for a few more minutes, before dropping it to hug both of her best friends. "It's fine. The night was boring anyway."

With promises of free butterbeer and sugar quills, the trio traipsed into Hogsmeade in high spirits.

* * *

A/N: Any questions you have I'll be happy to answer.


	9. Chapter 8 The Voice

A/N: Thanks for the continued support! Onwards to the next chapter.

Tom staggered to his feet as a wave of sheer rage, resentment and slight satisfaction hit him full on. His eyesight went fuzzy as it happened yet again, knocking him gasping to the ground. Someone had been murdered...and someone had escaped...Him?

Voldemort.

He shuddered harshly, trying to block it out, the traces of the Horcrux still attached to him. Although now he was but a mere memory of it, he was just as entwined with the Dark Lord's emotions and thoughts as he had been before the basilisk fan destroyed his almost human like form.

He attempted to shrug it off, but it wouldn't leave.

Foul boy... Deserves to die...ripping me apart every time...must find him...Potter will be begging for mercy...

No. No no no. No.

HE MUST BE PUNISHED! PUNISHED FOR ACTING AGAINST ME!

Not again.

He fought it, growling as it burned its way along his nerves, igniting every response possible, but still he didn't give up.

This is for Hermione. Screw the rest of the mudbloods and filth. Leave the Potter boy alone!

It pressed down on, eliciting a cry from his lungs, bringing tears to his eyes. He trembled, but he refused to give in. He struggled back to his elbows, clenching his jaw.

LEAVE ME ALONE.

With one final burst of emotion against the hormonal hurricane, it ebbed away like sharp nails shredding his skin. 'Just remember, you're still joined with me...' a voice whispered, 'If I die, you do too'. It then left, leaving an empty void in his head.

He mopped his brow with his silken handkerchief, and stood up, brushing his soft, sweaty locks of his face. He let out a sigh, and brushed himself off, before travelling into Hermione's dream, his nerves still shooting electric jolts of fire up his body. He wondered if it had been worth it.

* * *

"Hi To- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!" Hermione yelled, running over to him. She cupped his face in her hands and saw him grimace, a tremble running through him.

"Apparently, someone got that evil sod angry. Tried to bring me into it." He whispered. He stood rigid, his head facing forward. He felt so weak, but his pride and dignity kept him standing.

She swept his fair back from his handsome features, and he caught her hand, turning his gaze towards her.

"How are you?"

She balked. "How am I? You really ask me that after you've just been through...whatever it is that happened to you?!"

He smiled meekly, dragging her down to the ground with him.

"Yes. Care to answer me, 'Mione?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Good.

"You're leaving to go home today, aren't you?" He asked solemnly, picking at the grass.

"Well, yes. Yes. It's the end of the school year. Why?"

"Am I...that is do you...would you still...am I still welcome in your head there? You know, like in your dreams?"

Hermione rolled over and stared at him, her head resting on her palm. "Of course you are! What makes you think otherwise?"

"Was just checking gorgeous." Tom commented, causing her to blush. He grinned.

"You're always welcome." She whispered.

He turned to look at her, before kissing her lightly on the nose. "Good to know." He said, with a lopsided smirk.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (Time Jump – 5th year)

Hermione stormed through the common room from Prefect duties in a rage, and made a beeline for Harry and the twins.

"Ohhhhh I hate her. I hope something bad happens to her real soon." She fumed, dropping down between Fred and George on the couch.

"You shock us, Granger. Where is all this animosity coming from?" Fred said in a mock whisper.

"Indeed, colour us surprised. Not very proper of you." George chimed in.

She cracked a smile at them both. "Yeah well, I managed to block a hex sent towards a bunch of second years then I finished my rounds in record timing, Ron should be here soon. I'm off to bed. 'Night guys."

* * *

"Tom? Where are you? Are you here?"

Two arms came to wrap around her waist and give her a squeeze. "I'm always here, am I not?" He said velvety, before spinning her to face him. "You seem troubled. It does not flatter you dearest."

"It's that stupid witch again. I hate her." She seethed, her head against his collarbone. "Why does she get off with torture? Why can't something terribly wrong happen to her?"

"I'll do my best." He whispered in mock sincerity, causing her to giggle.

"No. I forbid you from taunting anyone like that ever again!"

"Fair enough."

Aiming to sooth her, Tom hummed to her, a song that had played at their little dance just 2 years ago. He'd grown quite attached to it.

Before long, they were dancing on the spot, along to his vocals.

"_Last Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it, with a note saying 'I love you', I meant it..."_

"You've got a nice voice, Tom." She said quietly, smiling gently.

"Why thank you, Miss Granger, I rather like yours too."

They swayed a little longer, till inspiration hit her.

"Tom, how would you like a game of truth?"

His face was a picture of surprise, but he recovered quickly. "I'd love one, let's begin."

She pulled him down next to her, and summoned a bottle of their usual the way he'd previously shown her, and 2 glasses.

"_This time_, when we pass, we drink our entire glass _and_ give a confession." She said happily, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to object. He didn't, instead he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Fine by me."

"You go first."

Tom leaned back on his hands, his ankles crossed in front of him. "Would you say I'm narcissistic?"

She tipped her head, contemplating. "Sometimes."

She spluttered at his look if indignation, and sipped her drink.

"I am not."

"Are too."

"I'm not!"

"I think you'll find that actually, you are."

He huffed. "Your go."

"Darkest fantasy?" She giggled, jibing at him for asking it the last time.

He raised his glass and swallowed its contents, looking at her look of disappointment. "Nope, not yet cherub. Right, confession...I really like your teeth now, y'know, since that incident. You look happier when you smile."

She positively beamed at him in response. "R-really? Thanks."

"No problem, gorgeous.

"Let's see...Secret ambition?"

She blushed, but stood her ground. "Well, ever since the ball, I'd like to become a good dancer. Like a salsa dancer or something..."

Tom gulped, turning his face away, and pulling at his collar. Visions of her in a mini leotard were too much for him at that present moment

"I-indeed. Perhaps I could teach you one of these days."

She grinned and nodded her head. "I'd like that."

"My turn. Boxers or briefs? Or...otherwise?" She asked cheekily, her face a solemn poker face.

He rolled his head along his shoulders. "Mmmm...personally...boxer briefs. Not too loose, not too tight, not too long...definitely."

"Thongs or normal undergarments?"

She blushed heavily, before downing her drink. "Err...never mind. Um...Confession. I really like you in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and your cologne."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that so?" He closed his eyes for a minute before opening them again and scooting closer to her. "Why don't you smell this one?"

She felt her cheeks burning as she leaned into him, running her nose along his neck. He smelt divine. Like, heaven on a plate. It was making her head spin.

"Wh-what is that?" She asked, her face glued to his skin. She couldn't have moved even if she tried.

"That? That's a little something I made myself when I went here. Can't remember exactly how I did it, but yeh. You like?"

"I love."

He grinned, stroking her hair. It had calmed down considerable over the years, and now he was able to run his fingers through it, playing with the ends. He didn't want her to move anyway.

"Mm...Tom? Do you ever *sniff* feel like you want to *sniff* say something, but you *sniff* don't know how that other person will take it?" Hermione asked, nuzzling into his side.

He cleared his throat.

It's now or never ol' boy...the voice in his head chanted.

Now?! He asked desperately.

Go for it. . ! It claimed. It was strangely like the best friend he'd never had.

He cleared his throat again.

"Err...yes. I do, as a matter of fact."

He trailed his knuckles down her cheek, provoking Hermione to tip her head up to him. Her eyes were closed.

"Mmmm..."She hummed in response.

"In fact, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now.

"Hermione...you charming, witty, mad girl, I...that is I...er I am...Oh sweet Merlin...I..."

She popped an eye open at him, scrunching her nose up in the cute way he liked. "Go on..."

"Uh...Ok. Right. Uh yes. Hermione...I'm ardently in love with you."

Hermione froze against him, her eyes widening like dinner plates. She didn't speak.

His heart plummeted, and he turned away from her with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha-"

He was caught off by Hermione jumping on him, and kissing him hard. Their lips parted, and their tongues danced in a melody that was quite their own.

Hermione pulled back first breathing hard. "I love you too."

He flashed a genuine smile at her, sweeping her up in his arms, and kissing her again.

"Merlin, you don't know how long I've wanted to say that." He whispered hoarsely against her mouth, tucking the hair on either side of her face behind her ears. "You're a truly magnificent witch."

His lips came crashing down on hers once more, and soon they were lost in each other, exploring and tasting, testing boundaries.

It's fair to say, Hermione didn't wake til late the next morning. Thank god it was Saturday.

* * *

She woke up sometime around 10 o'clock, and stretched like a cat. Getting up, she ran to the bathroom in high spirits, and began undressing for her shower.

It was only when she gazed in the mirror while tying her hair up that she noticed something strange.

Her lips were bruised and swollen.

Her hair was mussed like someone had continually raked their hands through it...

Her clothing was in disarray, and she felt slightly...sore...in certain...places.

She tilted her head, in consideration, and a question decided to make itself known. There was no regret whatsoever in what had happed between them, quite the opposite in fact.

But...was it actually a dream?


	10. Chapter 9 Love

A/N: Basically, Tom is a memory of a Horcrux? Like, he clung to her when he was "Destroyed" Meaning that technically he's a Horcrux of a Horcrux, so he has a bond to living and breathing Voldemort.

He got out of her head because one: She banished him. Giving that Horcrux (2) free reign, so now he can move freely. He's magic, and therefore is attached to all things magical, hence Hogwarts.

He likes Hermione because he finds her interesting, and because she's different. She's not like the usual dame's he's used to seeing. So yeh...and now, its developed c:

So, he's both dead and alive. Sorry for any confusion xD

Not Mine. Just my story. SO...yeh...R&R please :3

* * *

He was such a complex being.

One minute he was perfectly composed and formal, so mysterious and shuttered, then the next he was laughing randomly and joking around, his posture slackened and he was so much fun.

Not that he wasn't fun when he was acting mysterious, of course.

She had memorised every line of his face, every quirk he had, like how he was serious while discussing wizarding history, or would wrinkle his nose while sampling food. His secret smirks when he bought her something she liked, and the sparkle in his eye while they danced.

The passion in his eyes when things got heated between them, when he stalked her down until her legs trembled from his proximity while they were arguing, his lips when they shared a kiss, his body when they shared...other activities.

Hermione and Tom's relationship had flourished since their confession, and every spare moment she had was with him. He had taken to surprising her nowadays, so when she slept she had no idea where they would be next.

He'd taken her to Italy, and there they made many memories, like when she accidently set fire to the tablecloth by knocking over the candle while laughing at a joke.

They'd been to the Eiffel tower in France, where they'd shared a picnic. It was then she discovered Tom didn't like seafood.

To the very top of the Statue of Liberty, where no normal person could possibly get to, and just sat and spoke, under the stars. It had gotten cold that night, and once more Tom had removed his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. They never spoke once the entire night.

Tom was everything she'd ever wanted, so much so that it was almost too good to be true.

She was getting ever more worried recently though. His outbursts of rage through his bond to Voldemort were becoming increasingly frequent, and he was helpless to prevent them. Generally, she waited on the sidelines, helping him through the transition to fight it off, so he could come back to their reality. It was downright terrifying.

"Tom?" Hermione mumbled, caressing the bare skin of his torso.

"Mm?" He hummed contentedly, turning to kiss her forehead. She smiled.

"What's your favourite colour?"

He looked at her like she had 3 heads for a few moments, his mask broken, before stretching in the velvet covered king-size bed, and placing his hands behind his head. "Hmm...I think I'd have to say...either black or green. Or both..." He eventually said, reaching out a hand to play with her curls. "What's yours?"

Hermione stroked the heavy ring on his hand, mumbling into his arm. "Red. Or Gold. True Gryffindor right here."

Tom just laughed, before leaning down and kissing her again. Passion built, but Tom was the first to pull away. "Nope, not again Princess. You have class in 1 hour. Don't want to be late. And-"He flicked his hair from his eyes and glanced behind her shoulder at his watch, "Your alarm is about to go off in 30 seconds."

Hermione huffed, cuddling into him further. "How do you always know these things?" She said grumpily, walking her fingers up and down his abdomen. He caught her fingers, his eyes almost black as he gazed at her, before bringing her hand up and kissing her knuckles, effectively stopping her from distracting him further. "We-e-ll, I have extremely good hearing...and I set your alarm time on my watch. I know you hate not being punctual. Like I, myself."

She smiled at him, as he pulled her in closer, breathing into her hair.

Tom rubbed his thumb along her jaw, catching her bottom lip, before kissing her softly. "Goodbye for now, Miss Granger." He whispered, as the world around them slipped away.

* * *

Time Jump – The Deathly Hallows.

* * *

Hermione sat at her Vanity table at home, tears running down her face. Her bag was packed with everything she'd ever need. This was it.

Memories of her past flashed through her mind, images of her first library card when she was 4, her 6th birthday, her Hogwarts letter, her parents taking her on holiday...And all of it was about to end for good.

She swiped at the tears, sniffling slightly. This was it. If she didn't do it now, she never would. She could feel Tom embrace her mentally, spurring her on. She glanced at the letter Ron had sent her one last time, before turning round at the sound of her mother's voice calling from the stairs.

"Hermione, tea's ready!"

"C-coming..Mum..." She called back. She stood up quickly, took one last look at her room, before shrinking her luggage into her pocket, and walking downstairs with her wand in her hand.

Photo's upon photo's of her happy life with her parents assaulted her as she descended the stairs into the hall. It was like a red hot knife had been plunged into her gut, but she carried.

She came to the door, shielding her parents from her view, and pushed it open soundlessly, holding her breath.

"Obliviate."

She had to stand and watch as the memories surrounding her faded, leaving vast gaps in her past, her parents faces lose all traces of ever having a child. When she finally felt like she could take no more, Hermione's feet unstuck themselves from her spot on the carpet, and she fled in a path of blinding tears and sobs to the apparition point which would take her to the Weasley's.

Her ribs were screaming with agony, from the lack of air and the force of her sobs, as grief flooded her senses.

However, when she arrived at the Weasley's, she had her mask in place. She put her red eyes and nose down to the cold and carried on the "holiday" as if nothing had happened, as if the memory of her parents weren't gnawing at her.

Instead, she directed her attention towards Harry and Ron, shoving the emotional trauma to the back of her head. The Wizarding World needed her more than her parents did at that moment, hence the reason she had performed the memory charm.

If she didn't find a way to help destroy you-know-who soon, she'd have no parents to go back to.

* * *

A/N: Just in case anyone's wondering, Hermione was definitely of age.


End file.
